Chapter 9
CAIUS PUTthe address into the GPS and took off. The fact Lukas had been attacked was bad enough, but if Wright really was after Max, he wouldn’t be the last. It was only a matter of time before people far more dangerous than a corrupt CEO came for them.
He had to send his own message before that happened and make it clear that Max wasn’t going anywhere.
When he reached the construction company, he parked and surveyed the area. Decent-sized buildings with clean streets, with several cars parked out front. He scrolled through everything Quinn had sent him as he watched the office through the large windows.
He cracked his car window and breathed deep. The nearby river blanketed the area with the smell of water. Thankfully, with winter setting in, any lingering smell of trash or waste there may have been was diminished. Beneath the usual scents of a big city, he caught two different perfumes and a horrible cologne, all of which seemed to permeate the building in front of him. As far as he could tell, there were only three people inside, and it was early enough that he hoped the staff hadn’t taken lunch yet.
Sure enough, at half past, two women stood from the receptionist desk and flocked out of the building.
Once they were gone, Caius pulled on a pair of black gloves and his sunglasses before striding up to the door and inside with all the authority of a ranked officer. He hardly paused as he quickly scanned for the most likely spot for an office and continued towards the back. He was inside the corner office and closing the door behind him before Wright realized he was there, and by then it was too late.
The lock sliding into place was loud.
Wright pushed up from his desk with an indignant scowl. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are—”
“Sit down,” Caius ordered, staring at the man like he was a new recruit who’d pissed on the floor.
The man blustered for a moment before sinking into his chair. “Who are you?”
Caius raised an eyebrow. “You attacked one of my men without knowing who I am?” He might have found that hard to believe, but old white men could be appallingly arrogant. The current president was a prime example.
“I haven’t attacked anyone,” Wright scoffed. “Now please get out of my office.”
Caius stepped closer to the desk, towering over the man. His nose twitched when he caught the sickly smell in his scent. It was almost masked by the terrible cologne and too much deodorant making his nose burn. That wasn’t the smell of a cold or flu. Whatever it was smelled terminal. That would explain why he was after Max. Apparently mage equated to healer in his mind.
He set his phone on the desk and hit Play on the park footage.
Wright watched it in confusion for a moment before he paled considerably. He rallied quickly enough and shoved the phone away. “Obviously that’s not me. I’ve been at my desk all morning,” he snapped, but fear soured his scent even further.
Caius tucked his phone into his pocket. “You should be more concerned about how those men led us to you. The police may be slowed by red tape, but I’m not.” He stepped around the desk and looked out the large window with a nice view of the river.
“The mage is bound to me.” He tilted his head when Wright’s scent spiked with adrenaline. It might have been over a year since he’d stepped onto a battlefield, but his instincts were as sharp as ever. The moment Wright put his hand on the gun, Caius was on him, slamming his head into the desk with his left hand. With his other, he twisted the gun from the man’s grip with enough force to dislocate his finger, then pressed the muzzle to Wright’s temple.
He grimaced as the stink of urine filled the office. “Pathetic,” he muttered as he removed the clip and tossed it across the room with a flick of his wrist. The bullet in the chamber followed, before he dismantled the gun entirely. He doubted Wright even knew how to put it back together, but pocketing the mainspring would ensure he never did.
“Come after me or mine again, and I’ll rip your intestines to pieces while you watch.”
When he reached his car, he flicked the spring into the grass before driving off. He doubted Wright would come for them again, butthis was only the beginning. They’d need every alert and preventative program Quinn had available, but even that wouldn’t keep them safe.
He never thought he’d be in a position to need a large pack, but for the first time since his father died, he wished his uncle hadn’t usurped his authority. A pack of four wasn’t much against an entire city’s underworld, but he hoped their skills would be enough until they figured out a plan.
Chapter 10
HELP FINALLYarrived that evening, in the form of a tall, lanky man who Lukas introduced as Rían.
Rían was nothing like what Max expected, and not just because of his striking crimson eyes with flecks of gold. He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. He’d never seen eyes like that outside of movies and wondered what kind of genetics had created them. Or maybe it was a direct result of power. The scent and pressure of magic around the other mage was thick enough that Max was sure he would have felt it even before he Sparked.
“You’re lucky I got my freelance license last year,” Rían said, the lilt of an Irish accent wrapped tight around his words. “And your wards are shite. I could sense a mage here from two miles out,” he added, shedding a coat that looked like it was for a far colder climate than even a Colorado winter. Beneath he wore a simple T-shirt, but Max’s attention caught on the dozens of pieces of jewelry. Necklaces and bracelets in silver and thin leather, a simple strip of red cloth, silver rings on almost every finger. Max might not know how to tell what spells were set in them, but every one of them practically vibrated with power.
Then Rían turned to Max and froze.
A complicated play of emotions passed over his face before he spun on Lukas. “Three of you bound him? Are you feckin’ insane or a gobshite? No, don’t answer. I forget you have a death wish.” He threw his large bag onto the sofa, where it landed with a muffled clatter of glass and metal. When Lukas didn’t move, Rían looked at him as if considering turning him into a bug. “Out.”
Lukas shot Max an apologetic look as he beat a hasty retreat. “So glad you’re not dead, squirrel,” he muttered, closing the door to the small library-slash-sitting room.
Rían grumbled softly in what Max assumed was Irish as he opened his bag. He pulled out a large jar filled with rocks, metal strings, and something that moved like liquid but shone like a star in the night sky. He started to open it before eyeing Max and reachinginto the bag again instead. He pulled out a strange device and tossed it over. It was a solid circle of dark, thick metal, a cylinder in the center with a silver ball inside. Two red lines marked a small area in the center of the cylinder.
